Viewing the sun between my fingers is a pain for my sixty-year old eyes. The forehead pains and the sun appears as a scattered yellow drop in the sky. It feels weighed and hammered by tons. But what’s much more afflictive is forgiving her – her memories.

These breezes feel like tears, the dust pinches like needles and the sun burns me to ash.

My life is lonely, heart vacant and soul unfulfilled. With every breath I take, I feel cursed and raped by destiny.

Twelve years, I am all alone but she never came back. I miss her, my darling wife, and our vow – a life together – has vanished.

There were few books and incomplete assignments that he had to submit this week. Seeing them, the ache grew stronger. Without thinking much about studies, he opened the drawers and took out the pills.

He wasn’t addicted to pain-killers before but now, they were a must-have for him.

Environment. Here. The environment here was to be blamed.

He took few pills and gulped them with a glass of water.

He was in solitude and the pill traveling down his food pipe could be sensed. They had kicked his roommate out; the warden had agreed on a bottle of beer only. The doors and windows were locked and everyone was busy completing their assignments in their rooms.

Removing his spectacles, Vasu jumped on his bed and closed his eyes. It was spongy.

Based in a hostel, it is a story of a boy who gets bullied to such an extent in his college that he does the unbelievable. The story is a dramatized version of the real incidents that happened with a friend of my elder brother.

I spent the night tossing and turning on my bed. I would close my eyes for some time and then open them again. It made no difference. Darkness. Now and again I would scream out of frustration. “I’m a fighter, I’m strong,” I would tell myself. “I’ll never fight anymore,” a voice from inside would retort.

And I wept myself to sleep. The next morning went the same. The same man talked aimlessly to no one in particular in the next room. Doctors came, checked on me and left wordlessly. A male nurse helped me walk up to the bathroom whenever I needed. My mom kept trying to cheer me up and get me talking, but in vain. Exasperated, she left by noon.

“You were screaming again after I left last night,” I heard her voice. It was past 2a.m. and I was lying awake in bed. Somehow, her company in these lonely nights was annoyingly comforting.

“Do you eavesdrop?” I asked.

“No, not really. I was woken up by your sobs.”

I squinted at the word “sobs”.

“I must have awoken the other room’s patient too,” I said, remembering the man’s voice from the morning before.

Strangely enough, she laughed when I said this.

The above lines are an excerpt from one of the best short stories I’ve recently read. You, too, can read it at http://yourstoryclub.com/short-stories-love/love-short-story-missing-petals/This short story is not written by me but by a friend; believe me, I’m not sharing it because she is a friend but because her work is worth appreciating and sharing. The love story that blossoms in the end will surely bring a smile at your face while your eyes being moist.In case you don’t like love stories, you should still read it ’cause it’s regular romantic story but much more than it. The message is wonderful too.You can read the author’s work at Adwitiya BorahHope you all like it.

Thanks!

]]>https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/05/21/the-missing-petals/feed/1annkitraajImageSOULMATE: A tale of undying lovehttps://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/soulmate-a-tale-of-undying-love/
https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/05/12/soulmate-a-tale-of-undying-love/#commentsSun, 12 May 2013 01:07:52 +0000http://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/?p=144]]>We danced in the eerie silence of the hospital as the sky bestowed on us its loving drops of water. Our love was an ocean of ecstasy filled with tiny droplets of these moments.
As the sky roared to make its presence felt, Rekha clinched my fist. “Ouch, you pinched your nails in!” I exclaimed.
However, she did not seem to care. “Hey! It’s beautiful. Come.” Her eyes glanced outside the semi-circular balcony.“You will catch a cold,” I said, concerned. The floor had become slippery.
“Stop it Shaan! I am not a kid.”
“OK. Then let me bring the chairs.”
“Don’t behave like an uncle. Just come and have a look,” she held my hand and pulled me to the balcony.The sky had turned red and the rain was waning away.
“Isn’t it beautiful, Shaan?”
“Yes it is. And the most beautiful of all is you,” I smiled. Her white apron over her blue dress made a beautiful contrast with the dusky scenario. Rain had stopped now. It seemed like playing hide-and-seek. The earthy smell and the cold breeze made me feel like there were endless tickles creeping inside me. I turned to Rekha. The breeze was constantly playing with her, causing strands of hair to move on and away from her face. It seemed as if they were playing piano on her cheeks. She passed her hands over her wet hair and smiled to me.

**

The above lines are an excerpt from my latest, and last, love story publishe don yourstoryclub.com. You can read the whole story at Soulmate.

It is a simple story of two doctors, and fiancee, who are planning their life after marriage and the incidents that unfold thereafter. My sole focus while penning this down was to let my readers imagine what they would do with their beloved ones once they get married. so do let me know in comments if had succeeded in that.

Credits …

Editing by Kae from Young Writers. Go and like her awesome Facebook page.

Rishi’s heart bounced to his neck. Not once had it ever crossed his mind that Arpita would reply so. She understood what fun he was talking about. She had known her to be someone who believed in enjoying such treats that life offered.

Fooling around with girls was easy for him. He flirted, he dated, he got dot down dirty and then told after a while, I think it’s not working anymore. Rishi wasn’t into commitment and tended to escape like sliding butter.

He approached life to be a fun.

Fun that comes with the tag of no-strings-attached, he quickly replied.

The above lines are an excerpt from my latest short story which can be read at It’s a five-minute-read about a flirt who falls head-over-heels for a very pretty and sweet girl. Do read my take on modern love of texting and chatting, and let me know if you liked it.

Credit: This short story has been edited by Kae. She has an awesome Facebook page, Young Writers. Do LIKE her page.

Thanking you,Ankit Raj Bachchan

]]>https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/04/21/ill-steal-your-heart/feed/0annkitraaj95741caf8037ad65f6244584819ba7d8BLOG HOPPING FUN: INSIGHThttps://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/03/31/blog-hopping-fun-insight/
https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/03/31/blog-hopping-fun-insight/#commentsSun, 31 Mar 2013 08:46:33 +0000http://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/?p=64]]>As, I have said earlier, I am not much of a blogger. I am just someone who enjoys reading blogs and get insight view of their life. That’s it!But my dear blogger friend, Sandra, keeps encouraging me to write more and recently passed few questions to me. Its called BLOG HOPPING FUN, I guess.

So, now, before answering these questions, I wanna thank Sandra for giving me this opportunity. I have always had a fantasy being asked many questions in an interview. So, I consider this post as my small step towards the BIG INTERVIEW!

Here are the questions and my answers :

What is the working title of your book?Road To Leh

Where did the idea come from?

My best buddy has very dirty thinking against Muslims (he is a Hindu) and my girlfriend is a Muslim. So, I kind-of want to change his thinking, and others, against Islam.

What genre does your book fall under?

Well, I guess its romantic, funny and has wars too. Which genre does it fall in? Comment and enlighten me Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

I guess Aston Kutcher would be a nice choice to play the protagonist’s part.

About the girl, I think someone new would be more convincing. My story demands a new face.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book?

“My friend and I were so wrong; Islam is much above Jehad. It is as much holy and divine as other religions.”

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?

Haven’t thought about it yet.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Its still in the writing phase. Have been writing it for the past eight months. So, just wait for a month, my baby is about to be delivered haha!

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

I don’t read much, so its a PASS!But yeah, its kind of a Chetan Bhagat thing.Who or What inspired you to write this book?

My friend’s nasty words against Islam inspired me. I just thought how what changes will come into him if he will have to reside in a Muslim place? How would he deal with it? What would he learn if a Muslim family will give him shelter when there’s a India-Pakistan (Hindu-Muslim) war outside?

Also, Leh is a VERY beautiful place, one of the coldest deserts in the world. So, Leh would be nice backdrop for romance.

And, my darling. What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Although, I never attempt writing comedy in my short stories, I am a fun to be with. The comedy element would be the selling-point.

Well, before I say anything, I wan to let everyone know that I am just a beginner. Few days back, I was very much unaware of these blogs and their functioning. But all thanks to Sandra, from http://quirkybooks.wordpress.com, that I am catching few things.

Really, I must say, these blogs have a whole of a world into them. I am quite liking it.
Thanks Sandra!

Besides, I would also like to thank her for nominating me for the lovely Illuminating Blogger Award!
Thank you Sandra! You have a very beautiful blog and you are a very beautiful person too. God bless!

I turned to the window-mirror for a reflection. I wanted to check my appearance.

The sun shone brighter today. A clump of Gulmohar trees, aside the road, had beautiful red flowers. Spring had come; a wave of happiness in my life. I beheld a joy within. I always wanted to spend my life with her, to grow old with her. We had been distanced for so long, but not anymore. I was prepared for a new beginning.

I took a deep breath. I was thrilled and closed my eyes to pray.

The above lines are an excerpt from my latest short story published on http://www.yourstoryclub.comThis one, too, is being praised a lot. It has also been awarded with the Editor’s Choice tag and is contending for Story Of The Month – March, 2013.

]]>https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/03/18/the-end-an-emotional-and-tragic-love-tale/feed/9annkitraajImageMet Her In The Bankhttps://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/03/11/met-her-in-the-bank/
https://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/2013/03/11/met-her-in-the-bank/#respondMon, 11 Mar 2013 08:15:28 +0000http://whistlingpassion.wordpress.com/?p=30]]>I knew Shweta since school days but we were not friends then. I was just like those average dumb students who were good for nothing and didn’t get any recognition in the class. After school, I moved to Delhi for further studies and she stayed in Surat (Gujrat) only.

The above lines are an excerpt from a new short story written by me, published at yourstoryclub.com
The story is about a boy who meets his school crush after many years and what surprise does the meeting hold.